Breathe
by elfmaiden4legs
Summary: ****Spoilers for S5 'The Softer Side'. Set between scenes after House stops breathing. The team fight to save him, House brushes the incident off, but Wilson is worried and is determind to get some answers!


**Breathe**

Wilson watched as House gasped for breath, struggling to breathe and to replace the highly oxygenated air in his lungs.

"You stopped breathing!" He frowned, expression brimming with concern.

"What the hell is going on?" Cuddy demanded, however Wilson could tell that House was in no fit state to answer any of her questions. He watched House helplessly as he continued to fight for breath, wincing as he drew the cool air into his evidently aching lungs.

"Wilson?" He gasped before paling, and his complexion took on an unhealthy blanched hew as his tone became a low groan.

"Ummm House?" Wilson asked, recognising the tell tale signs of nausea in his best friend's face, before noticing the waste paper bin in the corner of the room, adjacent to House's desk… unfortunately it was too far for him to reach, and it would already be too late by the time he'd made it halfway across the room. House was about to empty his guts all over the deep grey of his office carpet.

Cuddy, whose own concerned gaze had quickly flickered from House's blanched features to Wilson and back again now followed Wilson's fixed gaze however – herself having noticed her Head of Diagnostics sudden deterioration and realising immediately what it meant. Making an urgent dash for the far corner of the room she immediately tipped the contents of the waste paper bin onto the floor next to House's desk and thrust it under his chin, keeping a firm hold of it as House vomited several times into the bowl, still gasping for breath.

"I need a respiration kit in here!" Wilson called quickly to anybody in the room who would listen to him, pressing three fingers to the side of House's neck to feel for his pulse; before placing his palm gently to his friend's bare chest, and an ear to his mouth as he heard the raged breathing and felt the rapid rise and fall of House's ribcage. "Oxygen mask, and my bag!"

"Mmmmm… alright…" House mumbled in between deep gasps for air as he continued to struggle for breath – batting away both Wilson and Cuddy's concerned and probing hands as they continued to try to keep a check of the pulse in both the neck and his wrists. His lungs ached, his ribs ached, he still felt somewhat light-headed – but maybe that was because he was starting to hyperventilate – and his chest felt increasingly tight.

"House," Wilson explained. "You're tacyacardic, you're not alright! You're pulse is thready, and none of us have any idea how long you stopped breathing for! Now for once in your life just let us help you!"

"I'll go." Kutner volunteered. House shot him a warning look, despite the fact that he realised immediately that this was a futile attempt when, in his distress, his expression conveyed a look more along the lines of a desperate plea rather than any real hint of threat or menace. He immediately became aware of a rush of frantic activity going on around him as Foreman followed the young intern urgently to the door.

"I'll go fetch Wilson's bag from his office." The doctor explained as he followed Kutner from the room. "You go to the nurse's station, bring the respiration kit, and oxygen."

Then everything went black as House's eyelids started to grow heavy, alternating between open and closed as he allowed a fog of encroaching exhaustion to overtake him… the sound of heavy, rapid breathing continued to ring and buzz in his ears, but it took him a moment to recognise it to be his own.

The next few minutes passed in a heavy cloud of broken voices and a blur of activity after he heard the office door close behind the two men. House tried squeezing his eyes shut against the wave of unconsciousness which threatened to envelop him – but which he found he wouldn't quite succumb to, no matter how much he tried. He thought he heard indistinguishable voices calling his name… Wilson's… Cuddy's… a harsh slap against his cheek as he teetered on the threshold unconsciousness.

At some stage during the proceedings he heard the office door open and close again, and heavy footsteps return. Somebody grabbed hold of his legs, straightening them out upon the recliner abruptly, and sending a wave of excruciating pain through his damaged leg. The motion prompted him to cry out as another pair of hands stabilised his head… he opened his eyes slightly, allowing him to at least observe what was going on around him through a thin opening between two rolls of skin and muscle – as the pale but bright sheen of daylight pierced his retinas. He could see that Wilson had now positioned himself directly behind his head. His friend looked down at him – concerned, although still managing to retain his composure despite the situation. Then House's eyes suddenly rolled, and his vision yet again went black as his pupils folded backwards into the back of his head.

Suddenly he felt the sensation of something being heavily clamped over his mouth and nose, and of air being literally forced into his lungs. He hadn't realised how difficult he'd being finding it to breath until now; although with each breath of air he now took the tightness in his chest eased, his head became less fuzzy and his vision cleared – finally he found himself able to breathe more freely of his own accord.

Meanwhile as House's breathing eased Wilson placed three fingers to the side of his neck, keeping a close check on his friend's pulse, until finally he felt it return to a relatively normal rhythm, and he felt confident enough to replace the respiration kit with the oxygen mask. He smiled and sighed with relief as House finally sat up, resting his back against the back of the recliner and glancing around at each member of the small group now surrounding him. Thirteen and Taub had also by now made an appearance he noticed, staring around in quiet alarm at his side.

"He'll be fine!" Wilson finally concluded to the rest of the occupants of the small office, as Cuddy returned the reassuring gesture. They both watched as House continued to take some deep breaths.

She sighed before turning on her Head of Diagnostics in both her anger and concern. "Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?" She demanded.

**...**

Wilson followed as his friend left the office a while later, quickly but gently grabbing House by the elbow and leading him in the opposite direction. He'd refused quite adamantly to provide any explanation for what had just happened once his team had departed, leaving just Wilson and Cuddy alone with House in his office. House had preferred to brush the incident off, which was only to be expected, and so was not entirely surprising. They were after all dealing with House! But both Wilson and Cuddy shared a mutual concern for the hospital's Head of Diagnostics, and Wilson was determined to get some answers. He wanted to get to the bottom of what had just happened and make quite sure that his friend really was as alright as he claimed – not prepared to just take House's word for it!

House sighed, "I've got a patient to see too!" He reminded Wilson in a flat, disinterested tone. Wilson could tell that he could see that there was no point in arguing, but was somewhat surprised that he wasn't even going to try.

"House! You could have died!" He explained. "You may not have allowed Cuddy to examine you, but I'm not letting you out of my sight until I'm convinced that you're well enough!"

House sighed as Wilson continued to lead him down the corridor. He didn't observe Cuddy watching them, her hands on her hips and her eyes following them with concern, scrutinising House as they went.

**...**

"So, what's the verdict _doctor_?" House asked, emphasising this last word sarcastically as he looked back at Wilson with tired eyes.

"BP's good, heart and lungs sound relatively healthy all things considering, pulse is gradually getting back to normal," Wilson finally concluded, withdrawing the stethoscope he'd been using to check his friend's heart rate and lungs from House's back and throwing it over his shoulders, "and Cuddy said that she couldn't see any sign of brain damage…" As he spoke he flicked the light of his small torch quickly from one to the other of House's bloodshot eyes. "Pupils are responsive and equal." He concluded. "You should be fine."

"So, can I get back to work now?" He asked.

Wilson rolled his eyes, eyebrows raised as he shrugged despairingly. "Well I have no reason to keep you." He sighed. "But I would strongly recommend that you take it easy for the rest of the day at least."

"Great!" House exclaimed, completely ignoring his friend's recommendation however as he leapt up rather stiffly from the leather couch in Wilson's office and hobbled towards the door. The characteristic defiance and sarcastic twinkle returned now to his eye as he retrieved his cane with a surprising stretch of mobility, before preparing himself for some witty, metaphorical retort in response to any objections which his friend may have to this decision.

Wilson sighed… it was like trying to draw blood from a stone in getting through to House. "Just… promise you'll let me know if you start to experience any more difficulty in breathing, any dizziness, light-headedness, headaches, nausea… you know the drill." He ordered. "Or I'm admitting you now for observation." He added; a serious edge now to his tone.

"On what grounds?" House scoffed.

"Under the perfectly reasonable grounds that YOU STOPED BREATHING!" Wilson responded, emphasizing the last three words in his frustration and evidently growing impatience.

"I know, you told me!" House sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"I'll see you later." Wilson sighed.

"Why?" House asked suspiciously. "Are you going to be checking up on me?"

"For crying out loud House, I'm your friend! I'm concerned!" He sighed in exasperation – but managed to bite his tongue as he observed the look upon his friend's face.

"Listen, I'll take you out to dinner?" He offered – surprised that House said nothing for a moment as he appeared to be simply considering Wilson's offer – before the slightly older man finally nodded in agreement.

"What?" Wilson asked as House opened the door to leave, brow furrowed in confusion and concern. "No sarcastic comment? No witty retort? Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Fine." House smiled. "I'll see you later."… and with that he'd closed the door behind him and was gone.


End file.
